The secret branch
by Queen Mab the Eccentric
Summary: All of us know that elves live the longest of lives, that being, they also have the longest of bloodlines. These bloodlines grow tangled over time, some families have dark secrets, others are creating them as we speak. This story is about one of the longest and darkest of secrets, which is just now being put to rest. No pairings... yet


**Here is my first ever, **_**real**_** attempt at a summary/prologue :3**

**All of us know that elves live the longest of lives, that being, they also have the longest of bloodlines. These bloodlines grow tangled over time, some families have dark secrets, others are creating them as we speak. Any way you choose to look at it, even the elf families have their disputes. This story is about one of the longest and darkest of secrets, which is just now being put to rest.**

**Okay, its been a while since I've seen the third movie (I'm actually watching it right now, SPOILER ALLERT: Gondor is being attacked and the king just got his ass handed to him by Gandalf and his wizard staff)**

**Anyway, its also been a while since I've seen the final battle, so this first scene is completely stuff I had to make up to go with the story line, I remember what happened, just can't tell ya what they actually said :P hopefully for the rest of the story however, I'll be more spot on (character wise anyway)=^.^=**

**Also as a note for those of you who would point it out, I realize that I have more elf 'breeds' in this story then any of the books or movies probably do-some made up, or from other things-but I'm doing this because it'll make it somewhat easier in the long-run.**

**This is an all new ending for the famous trilogy, this is an idea I've had for a long time too, found bits and pieces of it in an old science notebook I had from middle school :D**

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The humans grouped into a circle on the battlefield, as more and more orcs poured out of the gates of Mordor. The enemy's numbers were rising faster as time trickled by; all of the orc's howls were rather unsettling to the warriors who had moved to form, ironically enough, a silver ring of troups. The orcs continued to howl and growl, egging on the humans.

In a case of déjà vu for those at Helms Deep, three massive fleets of elves came charging forward on horses or just marching. Elves from Revendell, Lorien, Mirkwood, Dark Elves, and many more; it seemed as if every elf race on this half of Middle Earth had come. Eight elven kings charged along with their people, Elrond, Celeborn, and Thranduil were among them.

...

Inside Mordor things were different. Sam threw himself and Frodo to the ground, shielding them from Sauron's Eye. They both held their breaths as the red glow drifted along the rocks and boulders; this was a truly heated glare in its most ironic form, Sauron's gaze could have boiled oceans along the nerves of his victims. As the last of the crimson light faded to the west the two hobbits crawled on to the mountain.

As the two hobbits continued, the heat grew more intense. The ground ahead of them seemed to quiver and wave, an illusion of the heat rising off of the rocks. Frodo stumbled yet again, whimpering as he lay there, eyes red and weary, his skin blanched and almost green in color. Sam knelt down and brushed some of Frodo's hair from his eyes, tears staining tracks down his dirt covered cheeks, matching the similar streaks on Frodo's face. "C-come on Mr. Frodo, just a bit more, we're almost there!" Sam tried to encourage his friend, Sam's hands were beginning to shake just as bad as Frodo's entire body. "I can see the cave from here Mr. Frodo, it's a great sight, just up the cliff and it'll be over! We'll be safe, back in the Shire with Mary an' Pippin!" Sam knew this wasn't true, but he had to find some way to lighten the mood and prod Frodo onward.

In fact, Sam knew that the chances of seeing _any _of their friends again were very slim. If they did manage to survive the destruction of the ring, what would they do then? They had no provisions, Sam _knew_ that Gollum had been the cause of that, not once had Sam sleep-ate and not dreamt of it-Sam gave a huff at that thought-and Gollum had done it for this very reason… so that the Fellowship could not accomplish their one task.

Frodo looked up at Sam with bloodshot, weary eyes. "Sam, this has gone far enough." Frodo mumbled "Hobbits like us could never accomplish this… I'm too weak to go on, I knew this was to far fetched to be accomplished! Look at us, we belong in the Shire." He said weakly, he was giving up, they both new it.

"Now that's a bloody lie Mr. Frodo, and you know it!" Sam said sternly, his voice was cracking but he still stood his ground on the subject. "I mean look where we are Mr. Frodo, we're _in_ Mordor, we're _here_! We're so close Mr. Frodo, just a smidge more, its right in front of us." Sam urged, his voice straining over the emotions surging around them. He was practically dragging Frodo now; his hands firmly grasping Frodo's shoulders, their supplies were bound and strapped to Sam's back. Sam wanted nothing more then to just sit and rest for a moment, but they had to keep moving… each step brought them closer. Sam could see the fires of Mordor glowing inside the cave, licking and snapping at the stone peninsula that stretched across the volcano's large bowl. He and Frodo both could hear the roar of the flames, the sound of the sluggishly moving lava that pooled in the mountain's belly. Sam could feel the heat singing his face, a tingling sensation that almost made his skin feel raw the closer they got. They could both taste the ash and smoke, gritting in their teeth, blackening their tongues and drying their throats.

Both Hobbits gave a start when they heard the howl that came from above them, Gollum slapped down onto the rocks in front of them, he crouched with a hiss and glared at them. "You _stupid_ Hobbitsies, you come to destroy the Precious, but Smeagol won't _let _you! _Dumb_ Hobbitsies think they can take Precious from Smeagol, hide it forever, but _no_! Smeagle _follow_ stupid Hobbitsies, track them he did, _you won't take Precious_!" the distorted and deranged Hobbit said with a final howl, Gollum lunged forward at Sam, knocking him away from Frodo, and sending Frodo staggering into the rocks. Sam fell back with a yelp, digging his fingers into Gollum's boney shoulders, with all his might, the Hobbit tried to rip the creature from him, grabbing a rock, he smashed it into Gollum's forehead repeatedly, each action fueled by pure adrenaline. Smeagol screeched in pain and rolled off of Sam, laying on the ground, panting.

Sam shook himself slightly and then ran over to Frodo. Drawing his friend up onto his feet, they both stumbled up to the cave with a new vigor in their step. Smeagol saw this and attempted to follow them.

...

The elf warriors began to merge with the startled humans, joining the ranks and drawing their weapons with precise accuracy. The elven warrior's faces portrayed no emotion, they were calm and collected as they drew bows, swords, spears, knives, any weapon you could think to see. Each elf race seemed to have their own manner of defense. Nightelves drew maces and axes, all black as night. Rivendell and Mirkwood elves drew tall bows, lined with narrow, thin arrows. Lorien elves drew shining silver blades. The Alavanche elves (heh, see what I did there?) from the snowy mountains drew bone weapons, scythes and spears made of animal jaws and long femurs, whips made of spines and tails, all of which had handles that were adorned with fur.

The elven kings however, raced towards the gates of Mordor, packed tightly together, the Nightelf King raced forward on a large lizard beast, charging through the orc's barriers. The Lord of the Alavanche elves rode on a large saber-toothed cat, its yowling could be heard even over the orcs as it swung its powerful arms and tail at the beasts who _dare_ to prod at it with their spears. The eight kings raced through the gates of Mordor.

With a hushed statement, Aragorn ran forward, sword drawn. Mary and Pippin soon after, everyone began to charge after their leader.

...

Now in the middle of the peninsula, Frodo stood with Sam not far behind. Frodo was panting from the heat and his own exhaustion; he grasped the ring and ripped it, chain and all, from his neck. The gold band seemed to be screaming now, as if it _knew_ what was about to happen.

"Frodo… Destroy it! Don't wait Mr. Frodo! Throw it in!" Sam was yelling now, he had seen Smeagol crawling into the cave. The damn creature was doing everything in his ability to attack Frodo. He leapt over Sam, crawling on all fours across the burning hot surface of the rock. He had a wild(er?) look in his eyes as he charged at Frodo like a bat straight from Hell.

Frodo could see the glowing magma surging under his feet. He heard a soft noise in his ears, the ring-in a last ditch effort-was attempting to take control. And it was beginning to succeed "The ring is mine." Frodo said calmly as he slid it onto his finger, disappearing from sight. Footsteps could be seen marching across the peninsula, and Gollum jumped onto his invisible foe. Sam looked up, tired and hurt, only to see Gollum clamp his maw down onto something… a finger he realized, and Frodo came into view, screaming in pain as he grasped his hand.

Gollum was jumping up and down, cheering "Precious! Precious, my Precious!" Just as Frodo reached to tackle him, they both toppled off of the cliff. Gollum, too happy to notice, fell straight into the sea of melted rock, the ring was the last thing to fall into the lava… having been in Gollum's outstretched hand.

"Reach!" Sam cried as he stretched his hand forward to grasp Frodo's. Frodo looked down to the ring, then back up at his friend. He stretched his arm up at the last minute, grabbing onto his friend's arm. Sam laughed, pulling Frodo up next to him.

An almost metallic screeching noise filled everyone's ears, some couldn't take the sheer pitch of the noise. Sauron's tower began to crumble into itself, until the eye imploded on itself. Everyone cheered at the sight 'Frodo did it!' 'It's done!' seemed to chorus all around the battle ground.

Lava began pouring out of the cave as the volcano seemed to level itself, closing off the carved opening to the chamber that had started all of this. Frodo and Sam sat on a bolder, in the middle of the lava flow. Frodo began to go on, saying he could see the Shire now, describing that last party they had had, celebrating Bilbo Baggin's birthday bash. Sam began to talk about the girl in the village he had had a crush on since childhood. They both seemed to relax completely, lying back on the stone with smiles on their faces. As they remembered what they thought were to be their last memories of home.

Three large eagles swooped down, Gandalf sitting on the first, the massive birds gently picked up Frodo and Sam in their curved talons. Frodo opened his eyes, glancing over to Sam, they shared a smile and watched as Mordor seemed to glide by almost peacefully.

Gandalf smiled as he saw the elf Kings in the middle of the barren land, as curiosity got the best of him, he and the birds landed gracefully, dropping their charges on the sandy gravel, rather than the jagged rocks that adorned the landscape. Gandalf sat straight backed on his eagle, a respectful posture when in the face of kings.

"Gandalf the White," Celeborn said calmly with a nod. The Kings around him nodded as well.

"An impressive council, your warriors were much appreciated, but why are you here? Surely you all would have wished to fight alongside your people…" Gandalf said, not understanding why they would be risking their lives against the terrain. No one was here to fight, they ring had been destroyed and Sauron destroyed.

"We wish to seek something out from Sindarin." Came the somewhat feminine voice from the Alavanche king, Constantine.

"What have you to seek? The tower has been destroyed." Gandalf was truly vexed now.

"It's not something we are willing to discard, it is of important value to us." Lucifer, the Nightelf Lord said in a velvety, even tone. And with that the elf kings pressed on, further into orc territory.

"Gandalf? What was that all about?" Frodo said tiredly. He had sat up and rubbed his hand against his brow.

"Frodo, Sam, do you believe you can get onto the eagles, or shall they carry you again? I think we shall go with them, to answer that question, I'm as curious as you are about that." Gandalf said, curiosity so strong within him that it twinkled in his eyes, an unusual spark.

Frodo and Sam climbed up onto the eagles, seating themselves right at the bird's necks. With a nod to each other and a stiff kick to the Bird's shoulders, they were off. It wasn't hard to spot the kings, they were the only speck of color on the ground. The elves were traveling at a breakneck speed, most of their personal animals were able to make it quickly around obstacles, scouring the rocky surface with ease as they raced their way to the crumbling remains of Sindarin, the Dark Tower. Frodo recognized the two points that used to hold The Eye of Sauron. There was still a feint orange glow, the dirt that had been kicked up made it seem as if it were colored mist, when the rocks and dust settled however, there was still something there. Frodo landed his eagle next to the white tiger that Celeborn had ridden. Getting off their mounts, Sam and Frodo approached the elf kings, who had gathered around the large black object. King of Mirkwood, Lord Thranduil, had part of the object placed in his lap. Lord Elrond had crouched down next to the thing, running his hands over it, seaming to be looking it over.

Frodo heard Sam gasp "It's a person!" to which Frodo stepped closer, his eyes widened considerably. Surrounded by the elven lords was a man, he was tall and of lean build, his muscles clinging closely to the bone, but not in a bad way. The man was pail, that much you could tell from the small spots and smudges on his arms and legs, because other then that, color wasn't easy to confirm, for he was covered from head to toe in soot and ash, it looked as if he had gone through several coalmines and a chimney. It was so bad that rocks were actually tangled in his matted hair, there was no clue what anything looked like under the grime, apparently the man had some injuries because a spot high on his thigh and a streak on his forehead were stained a shining maroon rather then the proceeding black. Constantine the Alavanche king took off his fur cloak and draped it over the man in a sense of decency, for he had been completely exposed; Frodo and Sam blushed at that revelation. Gandalf was at a loss for words, none of the three 'non-elves' of the group had any idea what was going on, but realization struck Gandalf hard. With a sharp intake of breath and the look of a gaping fish that had just been brought from the water, Gandalf stepped forward with unbelieving eyes. "It can't be-" he cut himself off

Elrond looked up with a slight smile "Yes Gandalf, this is Mairon." He said simply and quietly, as if not to wake the sleeping-or unconscious-form of the man, apparently named Mairon. Frodo finally gave in to his exhaustion, with a slight stumble, he was out in a dead faint.

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**Who is Mairon? Well you'll find out in the next chapter XD**

**Please review, the sooner you do the sooner I'll update, simple logic really**


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